


Inches from Madness

by thebitchisback99



Category: Elton John (Musician), Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: M/M, dont @ me, or gay murder house from ahs, this is basically going 2 be a gay amityville horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitchisback99/pseuds/thebitchisback99
Summary: Hundreds of people every year purchase property without so much as batting an eyelash. John Reid and Elton John were in love, and definitely didn't believe in the supernatural. Their new prestige suburban home was a spectacle of the neighborhood-- vintage architecture and a rich history of famous inhabitants. It isn't until strange things begin to happen that propel them forward, into this tale of horror and heartbreak.
Relationships: Elton John/Bernie Taupin, Elton John/John Reid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

632 N Harrington Ct was white picket fences. It was ice cream vendors in the summer and running through the sprinklers on the Fourth of July. It was carolers at Christmastime and harmless Trick-or-Treaters on Halloween. The picture-perfect example of what American suburbia claimed to be. It was a warm evening in June when John Reid and his partner Elton John finished moving all of their boxes inside, and they collapsed in a sweaty pile on the couch with satisfied smiles on their faces. 

"I can't believe we're getting away with this." Elton said, smiling. 

John laughed and rolled his eyes. "You already told your parents and they don't care. It's not a matter of 'getting away' with anything." 

Elton looked down at the tile floor. "I mean, they did care. They just can't do anything to stop me, really." 

John looked over at Elton and put a gentle hand under his chin, turning his head to face him. "As long as you're happy with what we're doing, that's all that matters." 

Elton smiled widely. "You're right." 

John stretched and got up off of the couch, walking around the piles of boxes stacked on top of each other around the living room. 

"We should have some people come down tomorrow to help with the unloading." He mentioned, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of cold water from the tap. 

"Hey can you get me some?" Elton asked, sitting up straight now. 

"Sure." John grabbed a second glass. 

It was about ten o'clock at night, and you could see the sleeping neighborhood through the blind-less windows on the front of the house. Elton squinted at a shadow that passed by on the sidewalk, and his heart raced a little. He started when the doorbell rang. 

John gave Elton his water and set his own down on the kitchen table, heading towards the door. He opened it to reveal a middle aged woman smiling, holding a plate of cookies covered in saran wrap. 

"Sorry to disturb you so late, I'm Suzan from 630? I just wanted to give these to you." She handed John the plate. 

John smiled warmly. "Thank you, that's very kind. We should meet up sometime for some tea or coffee once we get settled." 

"That would be lovely, thank you. I'll leave you to it then. Good night!" Suzan waved and headed back over to her house, confirming that she was the shadow Elton had seen a few moments ago. 

John closed the door. He looked down at the plate of cookies and took the wrapping off before taking one. 

"Do you want one, love?" He asked Elton.

Elton's face broadcasted an array of emotions before settling down. "Sure." 

John grabbed another before covering the plate back up and set it down on the table. 

"Our neighbors seem like brown-nosers do they not?" He asked Elton, handing him a cookie. 

Elton snorted. "At least they're leaving us alone and not swarming by the front door like flies. I thought for sure I was going to have to hire a couple of fit men to hide in the bushes out front to keep them away." He took a bite of the cookie, washing it down with tap water. 

"Don't worry. This neighborhood is notorious for having famous people living in it. I'm sure by now the residents know better than to put their heads where they don't belong." John leaned onto Elton's shoulder and propped his feet up on a tiny space on the coffee table. 

Elton closed his eyes, contented by the closeness of the gesture. He became suddenly aware of how tired he was, and almost drifted off--until he heard a loud scream coming over from the hallway. He started, nearly knocking John off into the floor. 

"What the fuck was that?!" 

"I don't know! Some kid, probably!" John looked a tad irritated and tried to shrug it off. 

Elton stood, setting his forgotten cookie and water down on the arm of the couch. He started to walk over towards the hallway that led to the stairs. 

"Do you think maybe someone snuck in while we were moving boxes?" Elton whispered to John. 

"They better not have, or I'll have their asses." John stood now, too and walked briskly ahead of Elton down the hallway. "Hey! Whoever you are! Get the fuck out of our house!" 

"John!" Elton put an arm on John's shoulder, pulling him back from going up the stairs. 

Silence. 

"I don't think there's anyone there." Elton said. 

John looked dissatisfied with that response. "Why would they answer that? They're probably hiding up there." 

"If you want to go up there and talk to nothing, be my guest." Elton turned around and headed back to the couch. 

"Gladly." John ascended the stairs. The loud thumps of his shoes on the hardwood echoing throughout the house. 

Elton listened as his footsteps stopped, and then started again, stopped and then started. But this time, it wasn't the scream he heard the first time coming down from up there--it was John's. 

Elton sprung up from his seat and ran over to the staircase. "John!" He ran up the stairs to an empty bedroom, seeing its door cracked open and John was standing in it. "What's wrong?!" 

He watched John's silhouette begin to shake at it's shoulders. Oh my god, was he crying? It wasn't until he turned around that Elton realized that John was laughing. At him. 

"You got so worked up!" He doubled over in a fit of laughter. 

Elton swore his face must've turned red from sheer embarrassment and anger. "You prick! I was concerned! About you!" 

"What in the world could've happened to me, Elton? Attacked? By a ghost? Or maybe a murderer in hiding in our closet?" John shook his head, still laughing before heading back down the stairs. 

"I don't know! Anything is possible!" Elton raised his arms in defeat. He shook his head. "I'm going to go to bed. I'm tired." 

"Good night." John called from down stairs. "Don't let the invisible boogeymen bite!" 

Elton sighed and slammed the door of the bedroom, taking his shoes off as he sat on the bed with no sheets. Fuck him. That wasn't funny. He thought he was seriously hurt! Elton took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand before curling up on the bed. He closed his eyes and eventually the heaviness of sleep overtook him. 

What must've been about four hours later he felt a weight set itself down on the mattress next to him. He opened his bleary nearsighted eyes but he couldn't make anything out. It must've been John trying to weasel his way into an apology and onto the bed. 

"John?" 

A dark shape in the vague form of a human stood at an impossibly high stature before reaching out a shadowy hand to wrap around Elton's throat. 

Elton writhed on the bed, trying to shake it off. It's grip was like ice. Elton bolted upright, covered in a sheen of sweat. He cried out in confusion and John stirred on the mattress next to him, mumbling something incoherently. 

So it was a dream. Elton rubbed his eyes and sighed, willing his heart to slow down from its current frantic pace. He looked over at John, still upset from what happened earlier. But he was too scared to keep giving him the cold shoulder, so he snuggled up close to him in a feeble attempt at comforting himself. It was going to be a long night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Elton came down stairs the next morning to see John sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. Which was kind of a comical sight. But the group of people buzzing around unpacking things in the living room distracted him from that thought. A wave of panic swept through the haze of his half asleep brain when he saw a woman begin to grab records out of a box. 

"Be careful with those! I can unpack them." He dashed over and took them from her, hugging them close to his chest. He looked back over at John. "We can handle a few boxes, can't we, John?" 

John looked up from his newspaper and set it down reluctantly. He sipped his coffee. "If you insist. I just thought it would be easier if we had some people from the office handle it." 

Elton sighed. "I know." He looked down at the stack of records in his hands. 

"And I know how particular you are about your things...So just let them handle the dishes and bedding and boring crap and we'll handle everything else." John stood up and walked over to Elton. 

Elton couldn't tell if he was upset or not. His tone of voice was very 'official'. Which automatically translated in Elton's brain to angry. So he probably must've been. But damn it if he had a problem with it, why did he decide to move in with him in the first place?! 

Elton slipped the records back inside the box he neatly packed them in and walked it upstairs to the bedroom. 

"Honey?" John called up the staircase. 

Elton's heart fluttered. "Yeah?" 

"Would you mind putting those in the other bedroom? It would make a nice listening room for you since you do tend to stay up late." 

Elton froze for a moment. It shouldn't be a big deal right? Using the other bedroom to lounge and listen to music. But why didn't he care if it was in their shared bedroom? Did he find it...annoying? He shooed away these thoughts. He didn't sound mad. And he had called him 'honey' on top of it. Another rare occurrence. 

"Okay." He replied flatly. 

"Thank you." 

Elton sat the box of records down on the floor of the other bedroom and tried to plan the layout of it in his mind. Maybe it was better this way. His stereo would take up a good portion of the room. And then there would need to be chairs and a table... He heard John coming upstairs. When he turned to see him he was carrying several boxes. 

"Here you go." John set them down on the floor next to the box that Elton had carried. "Oh, also--your clothes are on their way over." 

Elton had almost forgotten that he had to have his clothes flown in separately. 

"Okay." He said. 

John opened his mouth to speak but instead the sound of glass shattering downstairs echoed through the spacious house. His head turned like a vulture and he was heading down the stairs in seconds. 

"WHO FUCKING BROKE THAT?!" 

Elton could hear him shouting and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided to go downstairs to console whoever he would end up screaming at. But surprisingly that wasn't the scene he found. The office workers were all standing around in the kitchen, unpacked silverware and dishes setting neatly on the sink and in the cabinets. 

"Sir it wasn't any of us, we didn't touch the plates." A timid woman started. 

"Well plates don't just fucking break themselves!" John yelled.

"I saw it happen." A man standing against the sink said. 

"Oh yeah? Did it grow legs and fuck itself off?" 

"No, sir." 

"Then what happened?" 

"I watched it lift up and fall onto the floor." 

A shiver ran up Elton's spine. He just stood there, feeling helpless. 

John strode close to the man. "Oh yeah? Well, good job because you're fired!" 

"John," Elton started.

"You!" John pointed at Elton. "Stay the hell out of this! Go alphabetize your A-tracks or whatever it is you spend so much time doing!" 

Elton bit his lip to keep his mouth shut before turning to go back upstairs. He felt like a kid who had spoken out of turn and gotten sent to their room. In fact, that's exactly what just happened. He kept thinking about the plate falling on its own. How it unnerved him. He had never heard of something like that happening before. He thought about calling Bernie and venting to him about it all, but he decided against it. He was doing just fine, and he didn't want for there to be some Bad Reason every time he called him. So instead, he ripped a few more boxes open and started unpacking. And maybe he would alphabetize his A-tracks. Just out of spite. 

* * *

It had taken the whole day to get the house in order but they had done it. Well, with the help of everyone from the office. Minus one. John seemed to finally cool down and was leaning his head against Elton's chest as they reclined on the couch watching TV together. Elton kissed the top of John's head and nuzzled his hair.

"Sorry I lost my temper earlier, darling." John said quietly. He sounded ashamed of himself, which he should have been.

Elton wrapped his arms around John. "It's alright. Just don't go firing everybody when you get upset." He laughed a little. 

"I suppose that was a bit harsh." John covered one of Elton's hands with his own. 

"To say the least." 

"...Yeah." 

A comfortable silence fell between them and Elton closed his eyes. He almost drifted off when he felt an icy gust of air sweep across the back of his exposed neck. Elton jerked and kneed John in the back.

"What the fuck?!" John asked, rubbing his back as he turned to face him.

"I just--there was this cold air!" Elton scrambled for words to explain what had happened. 

"Cold air?" John looked exasperated. 

"...That's what I felt. Just like someone had blown cold air on my neck." 

Another silence that was soon broken by John's snorting laughter. He shook his head. 

"I can't stay mad at that! That's ridiculous!" 

Elton crossed his arms and sunk into the couch cushions. "...Well it happened!" 

"I believe you, darling. I really do." John put a hand on Elton's knee but Elton looked away into the TV. 

"Oh so now you're going to give me the cold neck!" John joked. 

"Fuck off!" Elton huffed. 

"Fine! I'll pull a kitchen plate and fuck right off!" John stood and grabbed his coat from the coat rack before slamming the door on his way out. 

Elton suddenly felt really small and really alone. His shoulders fell from their tensed position and he looked around the empty house. He shouldn't have been so stubborn. If he had just let it go he would probably be in bed right now cuddled up and falling asleep properly. Not in the middle of some petty feud about sudden temperature changes. And then it happened again. 

Air as cold as ice, blew right past him in a gust. It blew his hair over to one side and struck his core with fear. Elton looked around frantically, yet saw nothing. His eyes fixed on a red and white French vase on the mantle and it began to wobble. 

"Oh Christ, no." He stood up and started to walk over to it in an attempt to stop it from falling, but it flew off the mantle and hit the stone floor before he could even get across the room. 

Elton screamed and ran upstairs as fast as he could, slamming the door of the bedroom shut. What the fuck was that?! He tried to calm his breathing down and his eyes scanned the room. The bed was neatly made, lace canopy intact. His previously empty walk-in closet now filled to the brim with clothes. Not a speck out of place. And then his eyes fell on the phone. Instinctively, he walked over and began to dial John's number. Then he remembered that they live together now and that his number was technically his number as well. Fuck. How could he get a hold of him if he needed him? Who else could he call that was in the area? His mind scanned a few familiar faces before settling on Bernie's. Elton sighed. Here comes the inevitable phone call from the emotionally unstable friend. 

It rang four times before Bernie picked up.

"Hello?" 

"Bernie!" 

"Yea?"

"Er..." Elton stalled a moment. The urge to make this something other than a cry for help was very strong. "Would you like to come over for tea? Maybe see the new house? We just got it put together today." 

Laughter. 

"What?"

"Elton, it's ten o'clock at night." 

Elton looked over at the clock. Sure enough it was. 

"Oh. Sorry." 

"It's fine, mate." There was a pause. "Is that all you wanted to tell me about?" 

Elton bit his lip until it bled. "Well, since we moved in there's been weird things happening here. In the house." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. Like really crazy shit. Plates breaking themselves and disembodied screaming...And just now a--a vase fell off the shelf." 

"Jesus Christ." 

"Yeah." 

"Are you okay?" 

Elton paused. "I-I'm fine. Nothing's hurt me." 

"What's John's take on all this?" 

Elton laughed. "He thinks I'm a loony." 

Bernie laughed. "I mean he wouldn't be wrong. But I mean, is he reacting well to it? Or is he losing his mind?" 

"He kind of...fired one of the workers today." 

Bernie groaned. "Are you serious?" 

"Yeah..." 

"Anything else?" 

"Not really...I mean we had a bit of a row and he stormed off to God knows where, but that's typical." 

"Elton!" 

"What?" 

"He's left you alone in that place?!" 

"So? It's my house, Bernie." 

"Yeah but it's probably filled with ghosts or some shit!" 

"He doesn't believe in ghosts! Why would he give a shit?!" 

"Well he should give a shit if he cares about you!" 

Elton sighed. "Bernie, it's not like that." 

"Okay..." 

A crash rang out from downstairs. 

"What the fuck...?" Elton muttered. 

"What was that?" Bernie asked. 

"I dunno. Should I go and look?" 

"Definitely not!" 

"Why not?!" 

"Because whatever caused it is still down there!" 

"Oh..." 

Loud footsteps began to pound up the stairs. Elton braced for the worst, phone receiver in hand. The door swung open. It was John. 

"Did you have a tantrum while I was gone?!" He yelled, inches from his face. 

"No!" 

"Then what the fuck happened downstairs?! Let me guess. The vase broke itself!" 

"Elton..." Bernie said quietly. "...You should hang up, mate." 

Elton did as Bernie said and hung up the phone angrily. "Yes! That's exactly what it did! And I watched it happen!" 

John sighed and put his head in his hands. 

"Why would I lie to you about this, John?" Elton tried to put a hand on John's shoulder but he shrugged away. 

"I don't know! People lie about stupid shit, Elton!" 

"But I've never lied to you!" 

John went silent for a moment. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. "You should probably go clean up your mess." 

"It's my bloody vase, John and if I want it broken on the living room floor then that's where it'll stay!" Elton left the bedroom and walked down the stairs. His shoe crunched some broken glass and he looked down at a rich red liquid pooled around his feet. A broken bottle of wine. 

"That one was me." John said flatly from behind him. 

Elton shook his head and kept walking to the living room. He didn't want this fight to go on any longer than it had to. He bent over to pick up the shards of porcelain from the vase. He could hear John sweeping up the wine and glass from the other side of the room. A pitiful duet of two headstrong men picking up the pieces of their dignity. The saddest musical Elton could possibly think of. The silence permeated the house. Elton tossed the pieces of the vase into the trash can and looked over at John cleaning. He walked up to him slowly. 

"We should go to bed." 

John looked up at Elton. "You're right, I think I will." He dumped the shards of glass back onto the floor and dusted off his wine-stained hands before heading back up the staircase. 

Elton's mouth fell open as he watched him walk away. And then he looked back down at the mess he now had to clean. Of course he was going to do it. Piece by piece, Elton tossed the wine bottle away and mopped up the liquid with a wet rag from the sink. He used to think domesticity was bliss. But now he was beginning to think it was a nightmare. 

He slept on the couch that night. Terrified of a repeat performance from whatever had broken his vase. He'd close his eyes for a minute, and then snap them back open again to look out into the darkness for some shape. Delirious and blind in the night. He just wanted things to be normal. Why couldn't they be normal? Elton forced his eyes shut again, and pulled his coat up over his head in some feeble attempt to shield himself from the thing. Hoping that sleep would take him soon...


	3. Chapter 3

Elton had gotten little to no sleep the previous night. What sleep he did get was plagued with dreams of shadowy figures reaching for him from around corners, sinister laughter, and a very unhappy John Reid. He rubbed his weary eyes and sat up on the couch seeing his jacket strewn across the floor. 

“I see you’re awake.” John’s voice came from over in the kitchen. 

Elton turned to look at him, already dressed for work. He sighed. 

“How did you sleep?” John continued. 

Elton glared at him. “How do you think I slept? Fucking fantastic!” He spat.

”Good!” John smiled with a potent acidity, sipping his coffee. 

Elton stood and grabbed his jacket from over on the floor before storming upstairs to the room with all of his vinyl in it. He closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, staring at the floor. This was absolute nonsense! He shook his head and went over to his stereo to flick it on before choosing a record to play. Just as he was settling down with a decision, angry footsteps sounded up the stairs.   
“ELTON!”   
“What the flying fuck are you on about?!” Elton yelled back.   
No response. Elton turned around to see if John had opened the door. He hadn’t. Elton rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, looking down at the first floor from the balcony.   
“WHAT?!?!” He yelled.   
John was nowhere to be seen. Elton went down the stairs and turned the corner, looking for him. It was unlike him to yell at him and then hide. He kept walking down the hall, opening all the doors to the other rooms and peeking inside. No one. In a split second, while looking up at the ceiling, Elton saw a pull cord for stairs to an attic. He pulled the rope and the stairs came rolling down, dust rising in their wake. This must not have been opened for quite some time.   
Elton climbed the stairs carefully, the aged wood creaking with every step. When he got up to the top it was pitch dark. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. But his forehead bumped into another cord that he assumed was the light so he flicked it on. A tiny lightbulb flickered to life and illuminated the attic space. An elegant stained glass window covered in dust so thick that light couldn’t get through was now visible. Along with a couch covered in old white drapery, and some kind of large stain on the floor. Elton walked inside carefully and tried to get a closer look at it. Upon closer inspection, it was an inverted pentagram in what looked to be black chalk.   
“...What the fuck?”   
Footsteps were heard again, but this time below him.   
“Elton what the hell are you doing up there?!” This time it sounded more like John.   
Elton peeked his head out down from the attic at the stairs to see John standing with his hands on his hips.   
“I was just looking. There’s some weird shit up here!”   
“Well it’s an old house, there’s bound to be plenty of it. Now get down here before you get hurt.”   
Elton huffed and came down the stairs. John brushed dirt off of Elton’s jacket and pushed the stairs back up into the ceiling.   
“Someone’s drawn on the floor. Some kind of weird cult shit.”   
“You really didn’t get that much sleep last night, did you, love?” John chuckled a bit.   
Elton groaned. “There have been worse nights! Why would I make this shit up, John?!”   
John shrugged. “I don’t know. If you’re really concerned I’ll have somebody come over later to clean it up, okay?”   
Elton bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you can just ‘clean up’...” 

“Nonsense.” John closed the attic door and guided Elton over to the couch.   
“Nonsense?! John I—“

The doorbell buzzed and John walked over to the speaker.   
“Who is it?”   
“Taupin comma Bernie.”   
John smiled over at Elton. “Lovely. Come right in.”   
Elton had forgotten he invited Bernie over for tea. He certainly had impeccable timing.   
John opened the door and let Bernie in. He was dressed nicely and had a small package in his hand.   
“This is for you guys. And your new house.” He handed it to John and John handed it over to Elton. He unwrapped it to find an ornate wooden cuckoo clock. Seemingly hand-carved.   
“Oh my god it’s amazing!” Elton said. He set it down on the couch and walked over to Bernie to give him a hug.   
“Shucks.” Bernie laughed and playfully lifted Elton before messing up his hair a little.   
John was standing in the kitchen, looking very much not amused.   
Elton composed himself and Bernie looked around the room.   
“I can show you around if you’d like.”   
“That would be great, yeah.” Bernie smiled.   
“I’ll put some tea on.” John said, more to himself than to anyone else. 

* * *

After Bernie was done gushing about the house and Elton had very little information to answer his questions about the history of it with, they settled down in the music room.   
“Have any more spooky things happened?” Bernie asked.   
Elton laughed. “Spooky things...” 

“You know what I mean!” Bernie waved his hands in dismissal.   
“Last night’s fight ended up with me on the couch. So I couldn’t sleep well to say the least. Been having nightmares since we moved in I guess.”   
“What kind?”   
“Nothing really graphic I suppose. Just faceless figures trying to get me.”   
Bernie shuddered. “That sounds awful.”   
Elton shrugged.   
“Is that it?”   
Elton bit his lip. “No, not really.”   
“Then go on!”   
“This morning when I was in here trying to avoid John I heard someone yell my name and start to come up the stairs and I thought for sure it was him—but when I went out to look for him he wasn’t there.”   
“Was he off in another room do you think?”   
“I don’t know...While I was looking for him I came across the attic space. Apparently someone had drawn some kind of symbol on the floor in it and when I told John he just kind of shrugged it off.”   
“Hold on. You mean to tell me there’s a symbol on the floor in your attic that you don’t know about and John didn’t freak out about it?”   
Elton nodded.   
Bernie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something is very wrong here.”   
“That’s to say the least.” Elton said.   
“You’ve gotta do something. Before someone or some thing ends up hurting either one of you. Not that I mind if John gets tossed around a bit.”   
Elton shoved Bernie playfully and shook his head. “Weird shit’s happened everywhere, Bernie! Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”   
“Doesn’t sound like it to me. I should have my mate Kevin come take a look at this place.”   
“Who’s Kevin?”   
“Kevin’s a psychic I met down in Santa Monica.”   
“You sure he’s not a con-man?”   
“If con-men give free readings and buy you coffee then sure.”   
Elton started as the tea kettle downstairs started whistling. Bernie put a steady hand on his shoulder. 

“Let’s go have some tea, yeah?”   
Elton certainly wasn’t going to say no. 

* * *

Even though afternoon tea was tense, it was nice to have Bernie visit. It was the highlight of Elton’s week so far. And he was sad to see him have to go.   
“If you need anything don’t hesitate to call me.” He said.   
Elton nodded as John got the door for him. He watched until he was out of sight and the silence creeped into the room.   
“So Nina said she would take care of the attic tomorrow morning.” John said after a while.   
Nina was one of their on-duty cleaners.   
“If you insist.” Elton said.   
John walked over to Elton and kissed the back of his head gently, wrapping his arms around his waist.   
“I just want us to have peace of mind. I don’t want this petty fighting to go on.”   
Elton practically melted. He was ashamed at how quickly his mind went from cold indifference to longing.   
“So we’re going to be okay, then? No more yelling or sleeping on the couch?”   
John nuzzled the back of Elton’s neck. “No more.”   
“...Okay.”   
Elton let John lead him upstairs toward their bedroom, hoping that a nap and some cuddling would put his mind back in the right place. 


End file.
